Do You Wanna Play A Game?
by Snow crystal skies
Summary: 9 year old Sam Winchester wants to play a game. Why won't dad or Dean play? Based off the song "Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?" From Frozen.


**I haven't seen Supernatural aside from the anime. I'm literally guessing when it comes to the Winchester home life so please don't be upset if I completely butchered the story. Little one-shot I thought of and wanted to share. Some ideas just won't leave you alone until they're on paper...or pixels. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or Supernatural. **

* * *

Sam looked out the window, sighing onto the glass, fogging up the view slightly. As a nine year old, Sam Winchester wasn't supposed to be used to just sitting in the kitchen, looking outside longingly. But also, sense he was a Winchester, that didn't really make him a normal nine year old, did it?

The brunette jump up when he heard the back door open and he saw his father and his brother, Dean, walk in. Smiling widely, Sam hopped off his stool and ran after their retreating shadows.

"Hey!" Sam shouted at their backs, "You're home! What have you been up to? Can I go next time?"

When he received no response Sam stopped running after them. He saw his father continue down the hallway and Dean turned and walked up the stairs. Sam stared at his brother, seeing the little spot of blood near his mouth.

Worry filled Sam and he started to follow his brother-who had disappeared around the corner-up the stairs. He hated this. His father and brother were always coming home at unGodly hours covered in bruises and blood and neither of them would tell Sam what happened. Taking the steps two at a time, Sam was unaware of how slick the steps were. Letting out a small yelp as he fell face first on the wooden boards.

Groaning after sliding down a couple of steps, Sam rubbed his head as he looked for what he slipped on.

A tiny puddle of blood which had been scattered and broke a part by Sam's shoe was what met his gaze.

Sam sighed, sort of regretting his words from earlier. They had been 'hunting', though he had figured that much when he saw Dean's face. That was the only logical expectation after all. And Sam knew that he would never be allowed to go on one of those trips.

"Sammy?"

The younger Winchester brother looked higher up to see Dean standing at the top of the stairs. The stop of blood was gone leaving Sam with the idea that it was never Dean's in the first place. Sam smiled sheepishly and stood up, rubbing the back of his head.

Seeing that he was okay, Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and started walking toward the bathroom. "You really need to watch your step, little brother. If you fall down the stairs while we're not around you might just stay there till we come home."

Dean walked in and smiled at Sam as he closed the door. "Or should we get you Life Alert?"

Sam stood there, his mouth open and his face red. After finding his voice again, the little boy stomped his way up the stairs and stood outside the bathroom door. "I'm not an old man, Dean!"

From inside he could hear water pouring out of the shower head and his brother's voice calling out: "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!"

Sam stuck out his tongue, even though the door was closed and he knew Dean couldn't see. Sam then walked back down stairs, trying to regain some of his dignity.

As the youngest Winchester stood in the dark hallway, Sam heard the clicking away of fingers over a computer keyboard. Smiling, Sam ran down the hallway and slid to a stop in front of his father's office door.

Sam had never been inside even though that was where his father usually resided when not hunting with Dean. Reaching out for the door knob, Sam wiggled it only to find it was locked. Not that he expected to be open after all, it was always locked.

"Dad?" Sam called.

No no one replied but Sam could still hear someone typing.

"Dad," Sam tried again. "Do you wanna play a game?"

Sam waited in the hallway for an answer. He had done this time and time again and never received a yes. Dean almost never said yes either but his dad was a complete lost cause.

"Come on, can we go play?" Sam asked again, pressing his ear against the door. He was wondering if his father was muttering his answers but he still heard the putter pattering of keys. Sam sighed and put his hands on the large wooden barricade. Sam stared at the door face, he had partially memorized every line that laced the wood.

"I never see you anymore." Sam stated. He wondered if his father would come out if he knew how much his youngest son craved his company. "Can you come out the door? It's like you've gone away..."

Still nothing but the keys stopped. Sam felt a little seed of hope bloom in his chest. Maybe his daddy was listening.

"Most fathers are best buddies," Sam informed him, "with their kids, and we could be like them."

"Do you wanna play a game?" Sam asked. He then moved his mouth over the little keyhole in the door, forcing his voice through the wood so that his father could hear it better. "It can be whatever you want."

A sigh was heard and Sam looked at the door happily, like he could see his father getting up and opening the door through the wood work.

"Sam." Came a gruff voice from inside.

Sam's heart swelled and he bounced on his feet, awaiting the yes that was sure to come.

"I'm really busy right now. Go away."

And just like that Sam wilted. His hands, that were held near his heart fell limply to his sides and his feet stilled their merry dance.

"Oh." Sam said, the courage in his voice gone. "Oh, okay. Bye..."

Sam stepped away from the door and started to walk away, though not without shooting hurt looks at the office entrance. Sam was about to make his way back to the kitchen when he realized he didn't hear the shower running anymore.

The water pipes in the large house were silent, and that meant that Dean was out of the shower! Feeling a small smile return to his face, Sam raced back up the stairs and paused outside the room that belonged to Dean Winchester. Sam reached out and fiddled the handle but once again he found another locked door.

"Dean?" Sam asked, feeling new hope blossom in him at the possibility of playing with a real life person. "Do you wanna play a game? Like ride out bike around outside?"

There wasn't a response and for a second Sam thought Dean wasn't even in there. Dean's presence was announced when old rock music started plating from inside.

Sam sighed at having his voice drowned out but he kept trying.

"I think some company is overdue!" Sam yelled over the blare of-was that Metallica? Sam growled in frustration now. He then decided to say crazy things and maybe his brother would be concerned for his sanity and open up.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Sam screamed. "I've started talking to the picture on the walls!"

Again't nothing. Sam wasn't even sure he was heard. "Come on, Dean!"

The littlest Winchester turned around and leaned against the door, letting himself slide until he was seated on the carpeted floor.

"It gets a little lonely," Sam told him, not even bothering to yell this time. "all these empty rooms, just watching the hours tick by."

Sam made the ticking clock noise with his tongue but he doubted he was even heard. Sam glared at a spot on the carpet, like it was its fault he was being ignored. It was more than likely Sam's fault but he didn't know what he did, his father and brother were barely home so how would they even know what he was up to, which was _nothing. _Day in and day out, Sam mostly just sat around and tried to think of something to do. Sometimes he thought about what the rest of his family were doing without him, sometimes he thought about where they would have to go next for whatever reason Dean gave him. And sometimes he would think about mom.

Sam stood up, being a child it was hard for him to sit still for too long, and walked across the hallway to the room he rarely went in: his father's bedroom.

With his office always locked, Sam felt like being in the master bedroom was the closest thing he had concerning his father. So nothing inside was a mystery. Nothing important as in the room-any papers or details about anything were in the office. The only thing of value was the thought of his mother sleeping in this room, sitting in the room, or even just breathing the air this room contained.

Sam didn't remembered her much, he was a baby when she died, but he always wished she was around. Maybe things would be different if she was here with them, cooking them food and telling Sam and Dean stories. Maybe his father wouldn't be so bitter if she was here, maybe Mary Winchester could've made a sad house into a happy home. A home where every family member felt welcome.

Sam walked over and sat on the huge bed that occupied most of the room. He looked up at the ceiling and an image flashed over him.

A woman, pinned to the ceiling, fire pouring out of her mouth and eyes, hair whipping back and forth across her face as she screamed.

Sam gasped, brown eyes widening in fear before curling in on himself to where he was lying on his side on the bed, the blankets and sheets twisted in his white knuckle grip. Sam clenched his eyelids shut and breathed heavily into the mattress. What was that?! Sam didn't ever remember seeing _that _before!

Sam curled up in a tighter ball and kept his eyes closed. His head hurt, a throbbing in the back of his skull. In a feeble voice, Sam called out. "Mom, are you still in here?"

There was no response and for that Sam was grateful. He had no clue what he would do if she had replied. His little 'vision' or 'memory' was enough to give him nightmares, he didn't need a conversation with a dead mother on top of that.

"I'm just wondering where you've been," Sam continued. He had no idea what he was doing. Was this because no one was here with him that he was just talking? He had been thinking about her earlier but he didn't imagine going into her room and speak out loud about it.

"I'm really lonely and I'm trying to," Sam still spoke, what on earths was he doing? "Find something to do but I'm alone."

"We only have each other," Sam said, opening his eyes a crack. He looked down sadly at the mass of scrunched up blankets next to him. "For now it's just you and me, what do you want to do?"

Sam just looked down at his hands, not knowing where else to look. His eyelids still had that picture burned into their flesh and he really didn't want to be alone with that agony as company. Instead he was talking to the dead, that's just great.

"Do you wanna play a game?" Sam asked, pitifully. He sighed downheartedly and closed his eyes again.

Fingers ran through his hair and Sam jerked up only to slam his forehead against his older brother's.

"Ow!" Exclaimed both the boys and Dean glared down at his brother as he rubbed the growing red spot on his face. Seeing the tears that were close to falling in Sam's brown eyes, Dean's expression changed to one of concern and sympathy.

"Hey," he said, rubbing Sam's back and Dean took a seat next to him. "I found some old crayons and some paper in my room, do you want to draw?"

He couldn't help but smile as the nine year olds eyes lit up like Dean had just said Santa was down stairs with a butt load of presents all labeled Sam Winchester.

"Yeah," Sam said in breathless bewilderment.

Dean smiled and stood up, "Well, come on, then!"

The boys colored for an hour and laughed as they found a paper ball war formed in front of them. Dean hid behind his bed as he was pelted with crunched up pieces of paper and he chunked back some colored pencils and crayons. Sam was huddled under Dean's desk and was using the swivel chair as a shield.

"You're going down, Sammy!" Dean called before shooting another paper cannon ball at his little brother.

"In your dreams, Dean!" The junior retorted, dodging the attack effortlessly. Sam pulled his arm back and tossed another paper ball at his brother before resuming his hiding place.

Dean moved just in time, the paper ball missing his face by and inch. Dean laughed and reached behind him for more ammo. His fingers grabbed at air and Dean turned around to see nothing to throw. Frantically searching for an attack, Dean's eyes landed on the ball of paper Sam had just thrown.

"Dean?" Sam called but Dean ignored him.

Diving for it Dean was about to chunk it when the color orange flashed from inside the ball. Confused, Dean wiggled lower down in his fortress and opened up the paper that seemed to contain a picture.

Dean gasped at what he saw.

Xxxxxxx

Sam waited for Dean to make the next move but when nothing flew his way, Sam became confused. "Dean?"

A sharp intake of breath answered him about 5 seconds later. "Dean?"

Sam's bug brother stood up slowly. It would be all too easy to hit him and Sam's hand was closing around some paper when Dean asked him a question.

"Sam, what is this?"

There was something about his tone that made Sam flinch. He crawled out from under his protection to see Dean showing him a drawing.

Pit was of a lady with fire all around her, even from her mouth and eyes. Sam's stomach lurched at his drawing. Had he really thrown _that _picture?! He had wanted to keep it and try to figure out what it was but now he might have just blown that plan and this game because of his carelessness.

"Oh," Sam tried to shrug nonchalantly. "it's just a picture..."

Dean just looked at Sam, his face impassive. "Where did you see this?"

Sam looked at him, confused. "I just saw it, I was thinking about mom and that image popped up."

No a small expression of panic creeped into Dean's features. His hand gripped the paper tight, crunching up the already wrinkled picture.

Now Sam was even more confused. What was the big deal? Yeah that was scary but it wasn't anything important was it? "Dean?"

Dean swung around and tore out the door, ran down the stairs and banged on John Winchester's office door.

Sam followed him out slowly, watching his frantic brother from the top of the staircase. What was going _on?_

The door opened quickly and John allowed Dean to walk in before shutting it again.

_What?! _Sam thought, angrily. _I've been banging on that door _how _long and wasn't allowed in but as soon as _Dean _knocks it becomes a company friendly?!_

Sam huffed in his fury before turning on his heel and stomping to his room. The youngest Winchester slammed shut the door and flicked the lock shut before collapsing on his bed. Sam buried his head in his pillow, frustrated tears leaking out of his eyes.

_Now _what did he do wrong?!

Sam pulled his covers over his head and slugged deeper into his bed, having enough of the world outside.

A few hours later Sam heard the front door open and the car belonging to John Winchester pulled out off the driveway and onto the street. Sam looked out his window and saw the car grow smaller and smaller with distance.

Someone knocked on his door. Sam jumped. He wasn't used to people asking _him _for entrance!

"Sam?"

It was _Dean. _

Now Sam was more confused. Why was Dean still here? Then bitterness crept up his throat like bile and Sam spat out. "You're still here? That's a first, usually you leave with dad."

A sigh escaped from his brother and Sam couldn't help but think about how weird it was to hear his brother and not see him.

"Sam, please open the door."

Sam stiffened again. "No! Lets see how _you _like being shut out and always being alone in a old dusty house!"

"Sam! Dear God, open the door!"

"No!"

Sam walked away and sat on his bed holding his pillow to his face incase he felt the need to scream. It was quiet for a couple of seconds when a defeated Dean called out one last time in a voice heavy with guilt.

"Sam, please let me in..."

Sam looked at the door sorrowfully. Against his better judgement, he rose to his feet and unlocked the door. He didn't open it though, he only returned to his bed and laid down with his back to the door.

Hear the soft _click, _Dean grasped the handle and opened the door slowly. He looked over at his brother and sighed. Dean couldn't help but feel bad about Sam's predicament. He didn't understand and Dad didn't want to tell him. So that pretty much meant that Dead couldn't tell him.

He walked over to Sam, keeping his footsteps soft. Sitting on the edge of his brother's bed, Dean ran an hand through his hair. Why was everything so complicated?

A little gasp escaped Sam's lips and his shoulders started to shake as he tried to stop from crying. Dean's heart broke and he carefully gathered Sammy up in his arms, holding him as he cried.

"Why!" Sam asked through sobs, "why do you-you guys sh-shut me ou-out? Wh-what did I d-do?"

Dean sighed and rubbed Sam's back. The boys weren't usually like this, it was so much easier to be mean to each other but sometimes you need comfort and the only one who can give it to you is the one who knows you better than anybody else.

"It wasn't you," Dean whispered softly, still stroking his brother's hair. "_never_ think is was because of you."

* * *

**Yay! There it is! Like I said this is a one-shot so I will NOT make it a series. I fell into that trap once and now I have over 30 chapters. Anyway, I hoped you liked it!**

**please send in your thoughts and review! I love hearing from you guys!**

**have a great life!**


End file.
